where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. Ant. Well, niece, [To HERO 1 I trust you will be ruled by your father. Beat. Yes, faith; it is my cousin's duty to make courtesy, and say, Father, as it please you-but yet for all that, cousin, let him be a handsome fellow, or else make another courtesy, and say, Father, as it please me. know you by your excellent wit? Can virtue hide Beat. Will you not tell me who told you so f Beat. Nor will you not tell me who you are! Beat. That I was disdainful,-and that I had my good wit out of the Hundred merry Tales, Leon. Well, mece, I hope to see you one day-Well, this was signior Benedick that said so. fitted with a husband. Beat. Not till God make men of some other metal than earth. Would it not grieve a woman to be over-mastered with a piece of valiant dust? to make an account of her life to a clod of wayward marl? No, uncle; P'il noue: Adam's sons are my brethren; and truly, I hold it a sin to match in my kindred. Leon. Daughter, remember, what I told you: if the prince do solicit you in that kind, you know your answer. Bene. What's he? Beat. I am sure, you know him well enough. Beat. Did he never make you laugh f Beat. Why, he is the prince's jester: a very dull fool; only his gift is in devising impossible slanders; none but libertines delight in him; and the commendation is not in his wit, but in his villany; for he both pleases men, and angers them, and then they laugh at him, and bu him; I am sure, he is in the fleet ; i would he had boarded me. Bene. When I know the gentleman, I'll tell him what you say. Beat. The fault will be in the music, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time: if the prince be too important,⚫ tell him there is measure in every thing, and so dance out the answer. For hear me, Hero; Wooing, wedding, and repent- Beat. Do, do; he'll but break a comparison or ing, is as a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-two on me; which, peradventure, not marked, o pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a not laughed at, strikes him into melancholy; and Scotch jig, and full as fantastical; the wed- then there's a partridge' wing saved, for the fool ding, mannerly-modest, as a measure full of will eat no supper that night. (Music within ] state and ancientry; and then comes repentance, We must follow the leaders. and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinquepace faster and faste till he sink into his grave. Leon. Cousin, you apprenend passing shrewdly. Beat. I have a good eye, uncle; I can see a church by day-light. Leon. The revellers are entering; brother, make good room. Bene. In every good thing. Beat. Nay, if they lead to any ill, I will leave them at the next turning. [Dance. Then exeunt all but Don Joas, BORACHIO, and CLAUDIO. D. John. Sure, my brother is amorous en Hero, and hath withdrawn her father to break with him about it: The ladies follow her, and but one visor remains. Bora. And that is Claudio: I know him by his BAL-bearing. I Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, BENEDICK, D. Pedro. Lady, will you walk about with your friend? + Hero. So you walk softly, and look sweetly, and say nothing, I am your's for the walk; and, especially, when I walk away. D. Pedro. With me in your company? D. Pedro. And when please you to say so? Hero. When I like your favour; for God defend, the lute should be like the case ! D. Pedro. My visor is Philemon's roof: within the house is Jove. Hero. Way, then your visor should be thatch'd. D. Pedro. Speak low, if you speak love. [Takes her aside. Bene. Well, I would you did like me. Marg. So would not I, for your own sake; for I bave many ill qualities. Bene. Which is one? Marg. I say my prayers aloud. Bene. I love you the better; the hearers may cry, Amen. Marg. God match me with a good dancer! Marg. And God keep him out of my sight, when the dance is done!-Answer, clerk. Balth. No more words. the clerk is answered. firs. I know you well enough; you are signior Antonio. Ant. At a word, I am not. Urs. I know you by the waggling of your head. Aut. To tell you true, I counterfeit him. D. John. Are you not signior Benedick! D. John. Signior, you are very near my brother in his love: he is enamour'd on Hero: 1 pray you, dissuade him from her, she is no equal for his birth: you may do the part of an bosest man in it. Cland. How know you he loves her! D. John. I heard him swear his affection. Bora. So did I too; and he swore he would marry her to night. D. John. Come, let us to the banquet. 'Tis certain so ;-the prince wooes for himself. Let every eye negociate for itself, And trust no agent: for beauty is a witch, Re-enter BENEDICE. Bene. Come, will you go with me? Bene. Even to the next willow, about your own business, count. What fashion will you wear the garland of; About your neck, lise un-an usurer's chain ! or under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf? You must wear it one way, for the prince hath got your Hero. Urs. You could never do bim so ill-well, less you were the very man: Here's his dry hand up and down; you are he, you are be. Ant. At a word, I am not. Urs. Come, come; do you think I do not; • Incredible 1 Carriage, demcanean § Passion. now from the farthest inch of Asia; bring you dro-the length of Prester John's foot; fetch you a bair off the great Cham's beard; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three words' conference with this harpy: You have no employment for me? Bene. Ho! now you strike like the blind man; 'twas the boy that stole your meat, and you'll beat the post. Claud. If it will not be, I'll leave you. [Exit. Bene. Alas, poor hurt fow!! Now will he creep into sedges.But, that my lady Beatrice should know me, and not know me! The prince's fool! -Ha! it may be, I go under that title, because I am merry.-Yea; but so; I am apt to do myself wrong: I am not so reputed: it is the base, the bitter disposition of Beatrice, that puts the world into her person, and so gives me out. Well, I'll be revenged as I may. Re-enter Don PEDRO, HERO, and LEONATO. D. Pedro. Now, signior, where's the count; Did you see him? Bene. Troth, my lord, I have played the part of lady Fame. I found him bere as melancholy as a lodge in a warren; I told him, and, I think, told I him true, that your grace had got the good will of this young lady; and I offered him my company to a willow tree, either to make him a garland, as being forsaken, or to bind him up a rod, as being worthy to be whipped, D. Pedro. To be whipped! What's his fault? Bene. The flat transgression of a school-boy; who, being overjoy'd with finding a bird's nest, shows it his companion, and he steals it. D. Pedro. Wilt thou make a trust a transgression? The transgression is in the stealer. Bene. Yet it had not been amiss, the rod had been made, and the garland too; for the garland he might have worn himself; and the rod he might have bestowed on you, who, as I take it, have stol'n his bird's nest. D. Pedro. I will but teach them to sing, and restore them to the owner. Bene. If their singing answer your saying, by my faith, you say honestly. D. Pedro. The lady Beatrice hath a quarrel to you; the gentleman, that danced with her, told her, that she is much wronged by you. Bene. Oh she misused me past the endurance of a block; an oak, but with one green leaf on it, would have answered her; my very visor began to assume life, and scold with her: She told me, not thinking I had been myself, that I was the prince's jester; that I was duller than a great thaw; huddling jest upon jest, with sach impossible conveyance, upon me, that I stood like a man at a mark, with a whole army shooting at me: She speaks poniards, and every word stabs: if her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star. I would not marry her, though she were endowed with all that Adam had left him before he transgressed: she would have made Hercules have turned spit : yea, and have cleft his club to make the fire too. Come, talk not of her; you shall find her the infernal Até + in good apparel. I would to God, some scholar would conjure her; for, certainly, while she is here, a man may live as quiet in hell, as in a sanctuary; and people sin upon purpose, because they would go thither; so, indeed, all disquiet, horror, and perturbation follow her. Re-enter CLAUDIO and BEATRICE. D. Pedro. Look, here she comes. Bene. Will your grace command me any ser vice to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker D. Pedro. None, but to desire your good company. Bene. O God, Sir, here's a dish I love not; I cannot endure my lady tongue. [Exit. D. Pedro. Come, lady, come; you have lost the heart of siguior Benedick. Beat. Indeed, my lord, he lent it me a while; and I give him use for it, a double heart for his single one: marry, once before, he won it of me with false dice, therefore your grace may well say, I have lost it. D. Pedro. You have put him down, lady, you have put him down. Beat. So I would not he should do me, my lord, lest I should prove the mother of fools. I have brought count Claudio, whom you sent me to seek. D. Pedro. Why, how now, count? wherefore are you sad? Claud. Not sad, my lord. Beat. The count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well: but civil, count; civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion. D. Pedro. l'faith, ady, I think your blazon to be true; though, I'll be sworn, if he be so, his conceit is false. Here, Claudio, I have wooed in thy name, and fair Hero is won; [ have broke with ber father, and his good will obtained name the day of marriage, and God give you joy! Leon. Count, take of me my daughter, and with her my fortunes: his grace hath made the match, and all grace say Amen to it. Beat. Speak, count, 'tis your cue. + Claud. Silence is the perfectest herald of joy : I were but little happy, if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am your's: I give away myself for you, and dote upon the exchange. Beat. Speak, cousin or if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let him not speak, neither. D. Pedro. In faith, lady, you have a merry heart. Beat. Yes, my lord; I thank it, poor fool, it keeps on the windy side of care :- My cousin tells him in his ear, that he is in her heart. Claud. And so she doth, cousin. Beat. Good lord, for alliance !-Thus goe every one to the world but I, and I am sunburned: I may sit in a corner, and cry, heigh ho! for a husband. D. Pedro. Lady Beatrice, I will get you one. Beat. I would rather have one of your father's getting: Hath your grace ne'er a brother like you? Your father got excellent husbands, if a maid could come by them. D. Pedro. Will you have me, lady? Beat. No, my lord, unless I might have another for working days; your grace is too costly to wear every day :-But, I beseech your grace, pardon me: I was born to speak all mirth, and no matter. D. Pedro. Your silence most offends me, and to be merry best becomes you; for out of question, you were born in a merry hour. Beat. No, sure, my lord, my mother cry'd ; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.-Cousins, God give you joy. Leon. Niece, will you look to those things I told you of! Beat. I cry you mercy, uncle.-By your grace's pardon. [Ecit BEATRICE, Turn a phrase among the G • Interest. players. D. Pedro. By my troth, a pleasant-spirited mation do you mightily hold up) to a contami lady. nated stale, such a one as Hero. Leon. There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad, but when she sleeps: and not ever sad then; for I Lave heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness, and waked herself with laughing. D. Pedro. She cannot endure to bear tell of a husband. Leon. Oh! by no means; she mocks all her Wooers out of suit. D. Pedro. She were an excellent wife for Benedick. Leon. O Lord, my lord, if they were but a week married, they would talk theinselves mad. D. Pedro. Count Claudio, when mean you to go to church? Claud. To-morrow my lord: Time goes on crutches, till love have all his rites. Leon. Not till Monday, my dear son, which is hence a just seven-night; and a time too brief too, to have all things answer my mind. D. Pedro. Come, you shake the head at so long a breathing; but I warrant thee, Claudio, the time shall not go dully by us; I will in the interim, undertake one of Hercules' labours; which is, to bring signior Benedick, and the lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection, the one with the other. I would fain have it a match; and I doubt not but to fashion it, if you three will but minister such assistance as I shall give you direction. Leon. My lord, I am for you, though it cost me ten nights watchings. Claud. And I, my lord. D. Pedro. And you too, gentle Hero? Hero. I will do any modest office, my lord, to help my cousin to a good husband. D. Pedro. And Benedick is not the unhopefullest husband that I know: thus far can I praise him; he is of a noble strain, of approved valour, and confirmed honesty. I will teach you how to humour your cousin, that she shall fall in love with Benedick :-and I, with your two helps, will so practise on Benedick, that, in despite of his quick wit and his queasy + stomach, he shall fall in love with Beatrice. If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer; his glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods. Go in with me, and I will tell you my drift. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another Room in LEONATO'S House. Enter Don JOHN and BORACHIO. D. John. What proof shall I make of that! Bora. Proof enough to misuse the prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato: Look you for any other issue? D. John. Only to despite them, I will endravour any thing: Bora. Go then, find me a meet hour to draw Don Pedro and the count Claudio, alone: tel them, that you know that Hero loves me; intend a kind of zeal both to the prince and Claudio, as-in love of your brother's boot who hath made this match; and his friend's reputation, who is thus like to be cozened with the semblance of a maid,-that you have dis covered thus. They will scarcely believe tha without trial offer them instances; which shal bear no less likelihood, than to see me at her chamber-window; hear me call Margaret, Here; hear Margaret term me Borachio; and bring them to see this, the very night before the i tended wedding: for, in the mean time, I wal so fashion the matter, that Hero shall be absent; and there shall appear such seeming truth of Hero's disloyalty, that jealousy shall be cand assurance, and all the preparation overthrown. D. John. Grow this to what adverse issue can, I will put it in practice: Be cutting in the working this, and thy fee is a thousand ducats. Bora. Be you constant in the accusation, and my canning shall not shame me. D. John. I will presently go learn their day of marriage. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-LEONATO's Garden. Enter BENEDICK and a BOY. Bene. Boy. Boy. Signior. Bene. In my chamber-window lies a book; bring it hither to me in the orchard. Boy. I am here already, Sir. Bene. I know that; but I would have ther [Exit Bor.- do hence, and here again. much wonder, that one man, seeing how m another man is a fool when he dedicates his be haviours to love, will, after he bath bed a such shallow follies in others, become the atgument of his own scorn, by falling in love, And such a man is Clandio. I have known, when there was no music with him but the drum and fife; and now he would rather hear the tabor and the pipe: I have known, when he would have walked ten miles afoot, to see a good armour; and now will be lie ten nigh D. John. It is so; the count Claudio shall awake, carving the fashion of a new deset marry the daughter of Leonato. He was wont to speak plain, and to the purpose, he turn'd orthographer; his words are abs like an honest man, and a soldier; and no fantastical banquet, just so many strange des May I be So converted, and see with these ees, I cannot tell; I think not: I will not be sw take my oath on it, till he have made an or but love may transform me to an oyster; bati of me, he shall never make me such a fool. One am well: another virtuous; yet I am well woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise; fet till all graces be in one woman, one woran not come in my grace. Rich she shall be, that's Bora. I can, at any unseasonable instant of look on her m certain; wise, or I'll none; virtuous, or I'll never the night, appoint her to look out at her lady's or comme not near me; noble, or not I for an an D. John. What life is in that, to be the death and her bair shall be of what colour it please gel; of good discourse, an excellent musician, of this marriage? Bora. Yea, my lord; but I can cross it. D. John. Auy bar, any cross, any impediment will be medicinable to me: I am sick in displeasure to him; and whatsoever comes athwart bis affection, ranges evenly with mine. How canst thou cross this marriage ? Bora. Not honestly, my lord; but so covertly that no dishonesty shall appear in me. D. John. Show me briefly how. Bora. I think I told your lordship, a year since bow much I am in the favour of Margaret, the waiting-gentlewoman to Hero. D. John. I remember. chamber-window. God. Bora. The poison of that lies in you to tem-I will hide me in the arbour. Ha! the prince and monsieur Love! [Withdraws. per. Go you to the prince your brother; spare not to tell him, that he hath wronged his honour in marrying the renowned Claudio (whose esti Enter Don PEDRO, LEONATO, and CLAUDIO • Pretend. Claud. Yea, my good lord ;-How still the As bush'd on purpose to grace barmony! Claud. O very well, my lord: the music We'll fit the kid-fox with a penny-worth. Enter BALTHAZAR, with music. D. Pedro. Come, Balthazar, we'll hear that song again. Balth. O good my lord, tax not so bad a voice, To slander music any more than once. D. Pedro. It is the witness still of excellency, Since many a wooer doth commence his suit D. Pedro. Nay, pray thee, come: what to think of it; but that she loves him with an enraged affection,-it is past the infinite of thought. D. Pedro. May be, she doth but counterfeit. Claud. 'Faith, like enough. Leon. O God! counterfeit ! There never was counterfeit of passion came so near the life of passion, as she discovers it. D. Pedro. Why, what effects of passion shows she? Claud. Bait the hook well; this fish will bite. [Aside. Leon. What effects, my lord! She will sit you, You heard my daughter tell you how. D. Pedro. How, how, I pray you? You amaze me: I would have thought her spirit had been invincible against all assaults of affection. Leon. I would have sworn it had, my lord; especially against Benedick. Bene. [Aside.] I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it: knavery cannot, sure, hide itself in such reverence. Claud. He hath ta'en the infection: hold it [Aside. up. And be you blith and bonny; Converting all your sounds of woe Into, Hey nonny, nonny. Sing no more ditties, sing no mo Of dumps so dull and heavy; The fraud of men was ever so, Since summer first was leavy. Then sigh not so, &c. D. Pedro. By my troth, a good song. Balth. And an ill singer, my lord. D. Pedro. Ha? no; no, faith; thou singest well enough for a shift. Bene. [Aside.] An he had been a dog, that should have howled thus, they would have banged him: and, I pray God, his bad voice bode no mischief! I had as lief have heard the night-raven, come what plague could have come after it. D. Pedro. Yea, marry; [To CLAUDIO.]-Dost thon hear, Balthazar ! I pray thee, get us some excellent music; for to-morrow night we would have it at the lady Hero's chamberwindow. Balth. The best I can, my lord. D. Pedro. Do so: farewell. [Exeunt BALTHAZAR and music.] Come hither, Leonato: What was it you told me of to-day? that your niece Beatrice was in love with signior Benedick? Claud. O ay:-Stalk on, stalk on; the fowl sits. [Aside to PEDRO.] I did never think that lady would have loved any man. Leon. No, nor I neither; but most wonderful that she should so dote on signior Benedick, whom she bath in all outward behaviours seemed ever to abbor. Bene. Is't possible? Sits the wind in that corner ? [Aside. Leon. By my troth, my lord, I cannot tell Leon. No; and swears she never will; that's her torment. Claud. 'Tis true, indeed; so your daughter says: Shall I, says she, that have so oft encounter'd him with scorn, write to him that I love him? Leon. This says she now when she is beginning to write to him for she'll be up twenty times a night and there will she sit in her smock, till she have writ a sheet of paper :-my daugh ter tells us all. Claud. Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest your daughter told us of. Leon. O-When she had writ it, and was reading it over, she found Benedick and Beatrice between the sheet ? Claud. That. Leon. Oh! she tore the letter into a thousand half-pence, railed at herself, that she should be so immodest to write to one that she knew would out her: I measure him, says she, by my own spirit; for I should flout him, if he writ to me: yea, though I love him, I should. Claud. Then down upon her knees she falls, weeps, sobs, beats her heart, tears her hair, prays, curses;- O sweet Benedick! God give me patience! Leon. She doth indeed; my daughter says so: and the ecstacy hath so much overborne her, that my daughter is sometime afraid that she will do a desperate outrage to herself; It is very true. D. Pedro. It were good that Benedick knew of it by some other, if she will not discover it. Claud. To what end? He would but make a sport of it, and torment the poor lady worse. D. Pedro, An she should, it were an alms to bang him: She's an excellent sweet lady; and, out of all suspicion, she is virtuous. Claud. And she is exceeding wise. D. Pedro. In every thing, but in loving Benedick. Leon. O my lord, wisdom and blood combating in so tender a body, we have ten proofs to one, that blood hath the victory. I am sorry for her, as I have just cause, being her uncle and her guardian. D. Pedro. I would, she had bestowed this dotage on me; I would have daff'd all other respects, and made her half myself: I pray you, tell Benedick of it, and hear what he will say. Leon. Were it good, think you? Claud. Hero, thinks surely, she will die; for Beyond the power of thought to conceive. Thrown off. 1 Aliouation of mind. she says, she will die if he love her not; and a fair lady: I do spy some marks of love in she will die ere she makes her love known; her. and she will die if he woo her, rather than she will 'bate one breath of her accustomed crossness. D. Pedro. She doth well if she should make tender of her love, 'tis very possible he'll scorn it; for the man as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit. Claud. He is a very proper + man. D. Pedro. He hath, indeed, a good outward happiness. Claud. 'Fore God, and in my mind, very wise. D. Pedro. He doth, indeed, show some sparks that are like wit. Leon. And I take him to be valiant. Enter BEATRICE. Beat. Against my will, I am sent to bid you come in to dinner. Bene. Fair Beatrice, I thank you for your pains. Beat. I took no more pains for those thanks than you take pains to thank me; if it had been painful, I would not have come. Bene. You take pleasure in the message. Beat. Yea, just so much as you may take upon a knife's point, and choke a daw withal: -You have no stomach, signior; fare you well. Ent. D. Pedro. As Hector, I assure you: aud in Bene. Ha! Against my will I am sent to bid the managing of quarrels you may say he is you come to dinner-there's a double meaning wise; for either he avoids them with great dis-in that. I took no more pains for those thanks, cretion, or undertakes them with a most Chris-than you took pains to thank me—that's as mach as to say, Any pains that I take for you is a tian-like fear. Leon. If he do fear God, he must necessarily easy as thanks :-If I no not take pity of her, keep peace; if he break the peace, he ought I am a villain; If I do not love her, I am a to enter into a quarrel with fear and trembling. Jew: I will go get her picture. D. Pedro. And so will he do; for the man doth fear God, howsoever it seems not in him, by some large jests he will make. Well, I am sorry for your niece: Shall we go see Benedick, and tell him of her love? Claud. Never tell him, my lord; let her wear it out with good counsel. Leon. Nay, that's impossible; she may wear her heart out first. D. Pedro. Well, we'll hear further of it by your daughter; let it cool the while. I love Benedick well; and I could wish he would modestly examine himself, to see how much he is unworthy so good a lady. Leon. My lord, will you walk? dinner is ready. Claud. If he do not dote on her upon this, I will never trust my expectation. [Aside. D. Pedro. Let there be the same net spread for her and that must your daughter and her gentlewoman carry. The sport will be, when they hold one an opinion of another's dotage, and no such matter; that's the scene that would see, which will be merely a dumb show. Let us send her to call him in to dinner. [Aside. [Exeunt Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and LEO NATO. BENEDICK advances from the arbour. Bene. This can be no trick: The conference was sadly borne. -They have the truth of this from Hero. They seem to pity the lady; it seems, her affections have their full bent. Love me? why, it must be requited. I hear how I am censured: they say, I will bear my self proudly, if I perceive the love come from her; they say too, that she will rather die than give any sign of affection.-I did never think to marry-I must not seem proud :-Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending. They say the lady is fair; 'tis a truth, I can bear them witness: and virtuous :-'tis so, I cannot reprove it; and wise, but for loving me :-By my troth, it is no addition to her wit;-nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in love with her. I may chance have some odd quirks and remuants of wit broken on me, because I have railed so long against marriage:-But doth not the appetite alter? A man loves the meat in his youth, that he cannot endure in his age; Shall quips, and sentences, and these paper bullets of the brain, awe a man from the career of his humour? No: The world must be peopled. When I said, I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married. Here comes Beatrice: By this day, she's + Handsome. • Contemptuous. Seriously carried on. ACT III. SCENE 1.-Leonato's Garden. Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULL Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice Against that power that bred it :-there will she hide her, To listen our purpose: This is thy office, Marg. I'll make her come, I warrant yes, presently. ¡Ex Hero. Now, Ursula, when Beatrice doth As we do trace this alley up and down, Our talk must only be of Benedick : When I do name him, let it be thy part To praise him more than ever mau did mert My talk to thee must be how Benedick Is sick in love with Beatrice: Of this matter Is little Cupid's crafty arrow made, That only wounds by hearsay. Now begin ; Enter BEATRICE, behind. For look where Beatrice, like a lapwing, runs Close by the ground, to hear our couférence. Urs. The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Of the false sweet bait that we lay for it.-- Urs. But are you sure, Jord. |